The letter had said among other things: "Mary has come, and now we expect
you to keep your word."
No knight of old had a keener sense of chivalry than the young statesman
of Salem Hill. It was almost as Quixotic as the excesses at which
Cervantes aimed his ridicule. An appalling fear took possession of
him--a fear that Mrs. Able and the girl had taken him seriously. It
worried him.
About this time Harry Needles arrived in Vandalia. The Legislature had
adjourned for a week-end. It was a warm, bright Saturday, early in March.
The two friends went out for a stroll in the woods.
"Have you seen Mrs. Able's sister, Mary Owens?" Abe Lincoln asked.
"I've seen her often."
"What kind of a girl is she?"
"A good kind, but-heavy."
"Fat?"
"Massive and most of her front teeth gone." Lincoln looked thoughtful.
"You look as if she had stepped on your foot," Harry remarked.
"The fact is I'm engaged to her in a kind of a way."
"Of course that's a joke."
"You're right; it's a joke, but I'm afraid she and her sister have taken
it seriously.
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